A Night at Bree
by Davinspeak
Summary: Aragorn/original character. not slash. Aragorn visits a woman in Bree. And that's putting it mildly.


I accidentally deleted this so there's nothing different in this story, I'm just reposting it. I'm new to all this fanfiction.net stuff. Sorry.

This started because I kept seeing nothing but Aragorn/Legolas fan fiction. More than four times as much as Aragorn/Arwen stuff. And since Legolas has a lot of Original Character romances going on, I thought Aragorn should have some too. After all, I think Viggo is very attractive too. Plus, what was a lonely ranger doing out there all those years?

I obviously do not own Aragorn or Bree or any incarnation thereof.

A night at Bree

The locals call him Strider, but that's not his real name, it's Aragorn. I might be the only one in this whole town that knows it. 

He likes me to be fully dressed when he comes to my room. His favorite is my long blue gown and now that's the only thing I wear when he arrives now. I only wear it for him. And as I comb my long black hair in preparation, I can hear his voice downstairs paying the manager for my services.

In a moment, he's knocking at my door and I tell him to come in, my back turned still looking in my mirror.

"Good evening, my Lady," he says. So formal, this ranger. My favorite client. 

"Good evening Aragorn," for that is the only thing I'm allowed to call him. He has strictly forbidden me to call him Strider or any term of endearment I can think of. "Where would you like to start tonight?"

He closes the door behind him and gives me a half-crooked smile. He walks over to where I'm sitting and offers me his hand. I give him my own and he guides me up so I'm standing in front of him.

"You look lovely as always," he says. He runs his hands over my shoulders above my dress and down my sides to land on my hips.

"I've missed you," I say to him, and really I have. He's not like the usual men of Bree, rough, coarse, and vulgar. They just call me honey and jump on top of me where I stare at the ceiling, waiting for them to finish. Aragorn is one who can always hold my interest.

"Have you now?" he lets his arms fall and he steps away from me. "Undress for me, my Lady."

I casually step back a little and undo the laces on my dress. In less than a minute I have the garment pooling at my bare feet. I stood there naked before him.

No undergaments this evening my Lady? That's a shame."

"I believe it's your turn now, Aragorn."

"And I thought I was the one in charge, but if that is what my Lady desires.' And he stood up and began to remove his clothing. 

He let them fall into their own heap on the floor. Then he started walking towards me. He held my face in his hands and kissed me. This is usually not allowed and in the beginning he would pay extra for the service. Now, I just let him kiss me, no extra charge. I realized it was important to him so I let him as a bonus for being a preferred customer.

We run our hands over each other's bodies. This is my favorite part because it's the only time I can really touch him. He has the body of ranger, hard, muscular, calloused hands. I love it.

He stops kissing me and gives me a long look all the while fondling one of my breasts. I run my hand down his body and feel his erection. I know what he's going to say next even before he opens his mouth.

"Get on the bed. The usual way," he says and steps back.

I move over unto the bed on my hand and knees. This is the way he likes it. He doesn't want to see my face.

I can hear him behind me, getting on the bed, grabbing my hips, pulling me towards him.

Right now I am very glad he picked me of all the other girls here because he is good. That first night with him I went through my usual routine of grunts and moans and I must not be as good an actress as I thought because he stopped thrusting and told me to shut up. "Feel what I'm doing to you," he said and then thrust again. After a few minutes I did feel it. I responded to him and he answered back, moving harder if it made me moan louder, touching me where I would scream.

"Feel what I'm doing to you," he says now every time we're together. Those words alone are enough to get me off now. I move my hands over to the headboard and hold on. 

The first time we had sex I thought perhaps he didn't find me very beautiful and didn't want to look at my face and that is why he chose this position. But as his pace became more frantic and uneven, he held a chunk of my black hair in one hand as he orgasmed.

"Arwen," he whispers as always in that moment.

I lay down on the bed and he collapses on top of me.

"Arwen," he whispers. That is not my name. He has never asked me my name.


End file.
